A LONG NIGHT

 "I don't believe in hell" I have often said. Boy was I wrong.

Richard (of RBB) arranged for the entire blogging community (himself, Robert and me) to spend lockdown together in order to discuss the blogs and to fine-tune our blogging skills.

"I've sorted out some luxury accommodation" he said. "It coincidentally has the address '1 Blog Street'. What can go wrong?"

And so it went.

The luxury accommodation turned out to be an old shack with only two bedrooms and one bathroom. 

It's years since I've lived in a place with one bathroom. Even the small one-bedroom apartment we owned in Auckland had two bathrooms! The house we had in Point Chevalier had three bathrooms. Our current house only has two bathrooms but with the added advantage of them both being large and one is right at the end of the house where guests can use it without causing annoyance.

You might have noticed that I mentioned that the shack only has two bedrooms. And yet, there are three of us. Robert snaffled the upstairs bedroom for himself - I hope that there are bats up there and not the insulation kind. The other bedroom, the smaller one,  has two bunks in it! I have to share with Richard. It's been years since I've had to share a bedroom with anyone other than The Old Girl and former girlfriends (not at the same time) TALKING HEADS - NEW FEELING

It is...is a million...years ago
I hear music...and it sounds like bells
I feel like my head is high
I wish...I could meet...every one
Meet them all over again
Bring them up to my room
Meet them all over again
Everyone's up in my room

There was a time though, back in about 1983 or 84 when I went skiing at Ruapehu. I used to drive down early in the morning (about 4AM), ski all day and drive back home to Auckland at night. One Saturday night I decided that I didn't want to drive back so looked for overnight accommodation. The only place with any was the Skotel next to The Chateau. They said OK, I could have a large room that had a double bed but it also had two bunks in it and, if any latecomers came needing accommodation they'd have to rent it out as well. I thought that would be OK and took it. Later that evening two women came in, about my age and they took the bunks. They were nurses from Tauranga. I know that this sound like one of those Penthouse Forum letters but it's true. We shared a bottle of wine and got on well.

Sharing a bedroom with Richard was not going to be as good as that. I just knew it.

The single bathroom was going to be an issue just on its own. I hate having to share a bathroom. It's not because I have special requirements or because I make excessive noises and smells - it's just - because. I'm sure you know what I mean. Robert had cleaned the bathroom, I'll give him that but he had left buckets, brushes, brooms, cloths and chemicals all over the place. It was hard to get into the room let alone do anything in there. Invariably, as soon as I unzipped for a pee there'd be a loud knocking on the door and Richard would be doing a Pink Floyd impression asking:

He thought it was funny. As soon as he'd bugger off  it'd be Robert hammering on the door screaming to be let in as he was 'busting' after drinking about seventeen beers. Jeez!

Dinner proved to be 'interesting'. None of us liked what the others suggested to eat so we ended up crowding into the small kitchen cooking three different meals.

Richard was on his vegetarian jag so declared he was going to make a vege version of beef Bourguignon.

"Good luck with that" I thought and then cringed at the idea of the shared bathroom.

He emptied a shopping bag onto the table and exhibited his ingredients: Potatoes, carrots, mushrooms, garlic - all good so far - then canned tomatoes (Italian brand which sent Robert into rapture making him mumble in Latin) and, oh no, canned kidney beans. There were a few dried herbs and bottles of sauces and seasoning as well.

"Where's the Bourguignon?" I asked.

"Cosi?" answered Richard.

"The Bourguignon" I said. You need red wine for beef Bourguignon."

" Yes, I know" he replied "but I only like my red wines chilled." He took out a bottle of Marlborough chardonnay.

"This is going to be a long night" I thought.

After Richard had put everything, including the chardonnay into a big pot and set it on the stove, Robert entered the fray.

He emptied the content of his shopping bag onto the table. It consisted of sausages and potatoes.

"Oh" I exclaimed. "No KFC tonight?"

Robert took this as a compliment and started to peel his spuds.

I emptied out my shopping bag showing the pizza ingredients I'd gathered - pizza base, olive oil, pesto sauce, Mozzarella cheese, canned tuna, anchovies, Feta cheese, Kalamata olives, capers, garlic and capsicum and proceeded to assemble the pizza. I could sense two pairs of eyes watching each move I made.

Eventually the meals were ready. Richard took to his steaming pot with a ladle and started to eat.

Robert had sufficiently burned his sausages and boiled his spuds enough and smothered them with tomato sauce - Tui brand.

My pizza was cooked so I sliced it and started eating it along with a bottle of Primitivo wine from Puglia. Richard eyed that but I told him that it wasn't chilled. Robert washed his meal down with eleven bottles of beer - 'The Bishop's Pizzle' or something that he'd bought on special at Pak n Save. "It's only three years old" he enthused "and the fools were selling it at half price!"

"Yes, it's going to be a long night" I thought.